


Four Words

by Gizmo



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: And More Angst, Angst, Spoiler of S03E01, mostly Queliot angst, with angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gizmo/pseuds/Gizmo
Summary: Eliot could only use four words to tell Quentin everything he felt.





	Four Words

**Author's Note:**

> For the Welters Challenge Angst Prompt  
> \---------SPOILER WARNING ------  
> Set between two scenes that happen in season 3 episode 1, if you have not watched it, it's at your own risk

For the past hours, Eliot has been seated at his personal desk in his bedroom. His crown tucked away, his white shirt half buttoned, his boots having flown away minutes after he arrived. He was disheveled and if Margo would enter the room right now, she would have teased him how he never allows himself to be unkept like this, even when he was alone. But for the past two months, it was getting hard to care about that kind of thing. 

Between having lost his kingdom, being unable to help his best friend as she was slowly tortured by the Fairy Queen and his wife is more than half mad, there was nothing good happening. Oh yeah, right, and the no magic thing. It has been months since this deep craving for drugs had taken him, but he would do anything to numb himself to everything for a couple of hours and forget. He wanted to lay on his bed, looks at colors that don't exist and hearing songs from Earth. Fuck. He thought he'd beaten it. Most of it. That addicting sensation of not feeling. He'd learn the hard way that it was not something he could do as High King. And with Margo brining Adderall and limiting him to fewer doze a week, he'd learn not to need it anymore. But it was an illusion. The moment the shit hit the fan, all his body wanted was to crawl back into darkness. 

Putting down his quill, he clenched his hand while closing his eyes and doing deep breathing. The metal digging into his flesh hurt and that's what he needed. He clenched his fist harder. Needing to come back to the present and not feel sorry for himself. 

Four words. What kind of good messager could bunnies be if they could only carry a maximum of four words? He wanted to curse them but honestly, those furry things could do more magic than him right now so he shouldn't get them mad.

Looking down to the paper he was writing in, he rubbed his temple. He'd written seven words.

_I miss you and want you home_

This was bad. Real bad. There were so many things he needed to say to Quentin. How much it was not only because the kingdom was in danger that he wanted him here. But because despite the castle being overcrowded, he was feeling so lonely. Because he would say nerdy things and Margo would cackle some bitchy thing and yet agree with him. Because he could talk to him without filters. Because his hugs were true and comforting. 

Mostly, he wanted him here because was scared of Quentin without magic. It almost happens once, and it had almost killed him. And not knowing if he was still alive was as worst as everything that was happening in Fillory. 

The High King grab his goblet and finished the wine in it. He waved his fingers for the cup to fill, a reflex more than a need. But when nothing happens, another brick went into his stomach. Those everyday spells were the hardest to leave behind. He never realized how much he used magic for the smallest of things until it was taken away.

With a deep sigh, he got up and walked toward the table where a servant had put a large wine pot in the beginning of the evening. It was almost empty now. 

Four words. 

He'd written two pages of everything he wanted to tell Q, and had managed to do cuts until the real message happened. And it was still not good enough. Seven fucking words. 

His drank his cup in two gulps, then filled it again and walk toward his desk. Drugs were not an option. But alcohol would always be. 

''Eliot? '' Asked small bird-like voice that came through the door. 

The High King closed his eyes and try not to say every curse word he knew. He would honestly enjoy more a conversation with the Fairy Queen than Fen right now. He was trying to be patient with her. He truly was doing everything he could to push away the mess of feeling he had toward her mental state because Gods knew it was a can of worm he was not ready to handle. He really tried his best to put up with her lunacy. But tonight, he knew he was near the tipping point and could be mean and hurtful to her if she was pushing him. 

'' I need to focus. '' He said in a calm voice that was clearly forced. ''Can it wait?''   
'' Hm... Rafe told me Margo is entertaining the Fairy Queen right now. '' Said his wife, visibly uncertain. ''That you should send your message right now. '' 

Eliot turned around to see his wife holding the bunny who'd agreed to help them carry a message to earth. Apparently, Abigail's translator could also manage to talk to them but _not as fluently as with his employer_. Whatever that means. 

Fen walked slowly toward him, holding the messenger harder than necessary and stroke its fur until she put it on his desk. The silence that ensues was more awkward than the first night they had to spend together. Which was saying a lot. 

'' Send my love to Quentin. '' She said, kissing Eliot's forehead and leaving the room, understanding that she was not wanted in the room. 

Love. 

This word resonated in Eliot's mind more than he wanted to. Because that was a line he always toyed with Quentin and, honestly, he was in no mood to ponder right now. He had too much on his mind to add this topic to the mix. But it felt right. It felt loaded. It felt like it could convey the two pages that he'd written for him. Love. Yes. It was less than what he really wanted. But if it worked, it would fire him back and bring him back to Fillory. There, they could talk and say as much words as they wanted. _Brother of heart_ had said The Great Cock. It was not far from the truth. 

''It won't take long. '' He said, to the bunny, unsure if the furry beast was intelligent enough to understand. But since it stands still and looked at him patiently, he decided that they might be that smart. 

Eliot closed his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fist so his ring would keep him from spiraling into his mind. He needed to focus on the present and give that goddamn message. This was only to try. To be sure the bunnies were not in league with the Fairy Queen and go back to her. If Quentin answered back, then they would use as many bunnies as they needed to explain that unwanted quest. 

_Need Help. Love Eliot._

There. It said everything, yet nothing. If the Fairy Queen would hear it, it would mean nothing. Yet for Quentin, he knew it would mean the world. Because if the fate were reversed, he knew that any word from Quentin would be the best drug he could ever ask for.

When the messenger disappeared, Eliot looked at the letter he'd written, pouring his heart and his soul into it. It felt nice to write them yet, didn't help at all. It was only giving more weapon for his captor to torture him with. Finishing his cup of wine, he took the parchment and put them over the flame of a nearby candle. While looking at the paper being destroyed, the High King promised himself one thing. 

If Quentin answers back, the next thing he will burn will be the Fairy Realm.


End file.
